In Memoriam
by Gotham Siren
Summary: Zoe has quite a bit on her mind after the events of the Dulvey Plantation incident. Ridden with grief over the death of her parents and brother, her mind is a scrambled mess. She is doing the best that she possibly can, but sometimes it's downright impossible. Zoe Centric Drabble.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil.**

Believe it or not, mama, daddy, Lucas and me? We used to be a normal family. A dysfunctional one at best, but a family nonetheless. Every night we sat down to the table for supper. No phones. No TV. Nothin'. Just us. I remember all the times Lucas used to sneak his phone under the table—or at least he would try. Man, you shoulda seen the look on mama's face. And daddy would smack that phone right out of his hand. You would think the boy would learn his lesson after havin' to replace his phone for a third time, but… he was always a stubborn one.

After that one night…. That one fateful night that changed everything for us as a family… Every night after that my knees would hit the floor by my bed each night, prayin' to God to bring my family back to me as they used to be. But it never worked. Mama was always spewing gospel. How the Lord would take care of us as long as we held him in our hearts. She was never more wrong in her life. God didn't save my family. Didn't save the poor souls that wound up on our plantation and never made it back out. But he saved _me_. Sometimes, I just laugh. Of all people, he saved me. I'll be quick to tell you that I'm nothin' special. Lucas won all of the awards at school. After that one project in art class I won many a moon ago, my well of luck just… dried up.

I shouldn't have been saved.

There weren't any remains of my family to bury, but I rummaged through some old storage bins up in the attic. Ones that luckily managed to go untouched and got something out for all three of them that held some sentimental value. And every week I go and visit their graves, dusting off the headstones. I'll sit between mama and daddy and just talk. Tell 'em about my week. Tell my brother that he would have picked on me so hard for the millionth stupid decision I had made that week. And when I was done… usually right before dusk, I would drag my forearm across my eyes, wiping the tears away and I would force my wobbly legs to support me as I stood up after being on the ground for countless hours.

Sometimes even Uncle Joe will come and sit with me, but those times are few and far between. Daddy would be pleased to know that his brother was taking care of his baby girl. It's a relief, not having to do this all on my own. I moved off the plantation. As much as I hate saying goodbye to all of those wonderful memories I had growing up, the darker memories quickly come to the forefront of my mind.

The Connections, or whatever the fuck y'all's name was? Y'all tore my family apart. And if God can swing me anymore favors… I hope that every last one of those sorry assholes get what's comin' to them.

Every now and again, I'll hear from Ethan. I know Mia feels guilty for her hand in all of this. I can hear her telling her husband to ask this, and ask that. But I can't bring myself to forgive her… not completely. She didn't mean to bring that… thing… to us. But there's still some innate instinct I have to distrust her. I never have been good at trusting folk anyways, mama always got after me about that.

Once a week, I see a therapist for my trauma. And she suggests that I scribble down all my thoughts. During my visits, she reads through my entries and tries to make sense of it all. Most of it is me being a ramblin' mess, but according to her I've been gettin' better. Yeah, I know. I'll believe it when I see it, too.

I see them in my dreams sometimes. Mama makin' a fresh batch of cookies. Lucas tinkerin' on somethin' on the dining room table. And daddy comin' through the front door trackin' dirt everywhere (prompting mama to yell at him, of course). But sometimes those dreams will turn into nightmares. Daddy will come up to me and yank on my arm. Mama will get in my face and tell me how ungrateful I am. And Lucas will try and drag me away to… God knows where inside that house. But then I wake up.

I wake up and realize that it's all over. They're gone, and I'm here. Tryin' to figure out just where I belong in this world. Maybe I'll pick up drawing again, who knows? What I do know is that I'm trying. I really am.

Daddy, try not to be too hard on Lucas.

Mama, try to relax. Not everything has to be perfect where you are.

Lucas… don't be a pain in everyone's ass.

I love you all and I miss you.

 **Hey guys! So that was just a little drabble thing I wrote after finishing my initial play through of RE7 and doing a bit of research. Hope you all liked it!**


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